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chapter sixty-five,
the man with the blurred face
Tiziana patted the coffin awkwardly. "Ah well. He had a good run."
Beatrice gave a sad smile, "He's in a better place now."
Tiziana nodded, "Unless he's in a worse place. Hell, y'know? He kinda was a dick."
"Tizzy," Beatrice whispered reproachfully, "you shouldn't say things like that. I mean... he was our cousin."
Tiziana slapped Beatrice on the back, "We're Salvatores, Bice, everyone's our cousin somehow."
Beatrice supposed that was accurate enough.
She hadn't ended up going home for her cousin Massimo's wedding a few months ago, but now, during Christmas break, she was attending his funeral alongside her entire family and his bored-looking wife (who, although nobody dared say anything to her face, definitely did it). Beatrice had been terrified to see her parents again, but felt almost more uneasy now, when they acted as if nothing had changed since they last saw her. As if her father didn't torture her, and she didn't run away to school and then Tizzy's house, not seeing them for an entire year.
☾
Christmas was never Beatrice's favorite time of year, but she usually did love the twinkling lights, the festive decorations, and the warm feeling of togetherness that filled the air. But this year, everything was different. Theodora's annual Salvatore Ball lacked its usual magic charm, and the guests, including Beatrice's entire family and Massimo's parents, danced less and whispered more about the war. It was as if the fear and uncertainty had seeped into every aspect of the holiday.
Beatrice stood in the corner, watching the people around her. Tiziana had got so drunk her parents had taken her home after just an hour, and now Beatrice felt invisible, as if no one noticed her. Her parents were busy talking to their friends, and Beatrice was left alone with her thoughts. She missed Alice, whose Christmas was probably much more jolly than hers.
Just then, someone tapped her on the shoulder. Beatrice turned around to see Regulus, standing there with a small smile on his face. It had only been a week and a half since she had last seen him, but somehow Beatrice still missed him terribly. He looked handsome in his dress robes, and Beatrice felt her heart flutter as he took her hand and led her onto the dance floor.
For a brief moment, everything else disappeared, and Beatrice was lost in the music and the warmth of Regulus's arms. They shared a quick dance, and Beatrice felt a small smile spread across her face. She forgot about the war, the sadness, and the potent absence of his brother at the party. She was with Regulus, and that was all that mattered.
